


My design, my becoming.

by TartufiBianchi



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Argentina, Declarations Of Love, Hannibal (TV) Radiance Anthology, Love, M/M, Monologue, Post TWOTL, Traful, Will's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 20:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TartufiBianchi/pseuds/TartufiBianchi
Summary: They fell. They survived. Together, always together. This is what came next.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote for Radiance Anthology (lovecrimebooks) (pages 393 - 399)  
> It was a challenge for me because I never write anything in first person, but it happened and I let it flow.  
> Will's point of view. I hope you enjoy it!

 

There is a particular moment in life when everything you always knew or thought you knew jumps out of your head and stands in front of you as time pauses. That inescapable instant when ‘you see life happening before your eyes’. Believe me, I saw everything. Not only life. I saw everything. All I ever doubted. All I ever cared for, denied, hated, loved. The answers were all there and I just understood it. Pain. Regret. Joy? That too.

Him.

He held me so close to his chest. I know he didn’t want to let me go, that I hit a rock and died before diving into the Atlantic. Well, we were already falling. We were already dead. I remember I smiled because I knew even in that crucial moment, he was protecting me. He was loving me. I loved him too. I still do.

We didn’t die, obviously. Despite my efforts. Or maybe that’s not where my efforts were focused on at all.

What came next was painful and extremely difficult for both of us, though he still got the worst part. Of course he did, he took most of the damage and I don’t even know how he managed to position his body like that. I know I couldn’t, I tried. He was stronger. He always is.

Hannibal.

He saved my life. The life I was so determined to end. He saved us both. Did I want to end him? I’m not even certain I ever did.

We hid in a small cabin deep in the forest, abandoned and lonely. It was not close, it wasn’t far either. We couldn’t move beyond a few miles without getting exhausted so it took us an entire day to get there.

I recall the smell vividly. Humid, dirty. It smelled sad and old. I remember Hannibal’s face too. Even if he was in too much pain, I easily detected the extra tinge of annoyance on his facade and I felt sorry for him because I myself couldn’t care less about the surroundings.

“You need to rest, Will.”

His voice sounded weak. I can play it in my head over and over again and it sounds exactly like him. I sound like him inside my head too.

All I managed to emit was a groan as I let myself be taken to the bedroom. There was a worn mattress where Hannibal laid me down. Every part of my body hurt, my muscles were on fire collapsed with fatigue.

“Thank you.”

I still couldn’t look into his eyes, but I knew they were warm and honeyed. He touched my forehead, my cheek, my jaw for ten minutes. It was clinical, but I didn’t care. Afterwards, I believe he instructed me to stitch his side with the last ounces of energy I had left in me. Then we slept.

The following months were complete agony. Broken bones, ripped skin, blood pooling in places blood is not supposed to be. Fever. Hallucinations. More stitches, scars. God, I’m touching my face now and it feels so different from how it was back then. I didn’t even want him to look at me, but you see, he always does. He always sees. He wouldn’t judge me, he just disarms.

The agony extended to our interactions as well. We barely crossed words. I couldn’t find anything to say that wouldn’t sound pathetic. Him. Well, I was convinced that I had finally made Hannibal Lecter despise me. However, he was still polite and chivalrous. He always is.

After a while, we relocated into an even more remote area. Our bodies had started to heal and we were able to move and hunt small animals for food. Hannibal found a small town a few miles away where he used to take monthly trips for supplies. I’m sure he also tried to gather information as to where the investigation involving the Red Dragon and us was.

As far as we knew, they still believed us to be dead. Alright, not all of them. Jack Crawford wouldn’t stop until he saw our lifeless bodies with his own eyes.

Nights were hell, but despite being two strangers again Hannibal came to me every time I woke up screaming. The physical pain, the nightmares. My mind was a battleground where two forces were fighting to conquer anything they could, only to end up dancing in the middle. The edges were blurred by then and I was waiting for a day nobody would come for me. I knew he would leave me eventually. Why wouldn’t he?

“I’m okay, sorry I woke you.”

He checked my temperature, as usual, and pressed his palms against my mattress to stand. I was unable to control my hand before it grabbed his, Hannibal’s eyes immediately on mine, expectant.

“I’m sorry.” _For everything._ “Please.” _Forgive me. Don’t leave me._

_Some words I didn’t say then and I still can’t say now._

He kept inspecting my face with impassivity for the following seconds and it was torture. I squeezed and felt so stupid I almost laughed.

“Will.” His eyes changed. Amusement crept slowly to his features, I can’t tell you how jubilant I was to see it.

“It’s alright, Will. Rest now.”

He slipped his hand away from mine, joy swiftly evaporating. He didn’t leave, though. He lifted his fingers to my face and cupped my cheek so tenderly I thought I would start crying. His skin warm and soft against mine.

“Goodnight.”

And it was.


	2. Part II

 

The speed with which everything started to change was not something I would have considered in a million years. Our lives started to merge in a way that seemed predesigned.

It was like a dance, at least during the day.

The cruel dark dreams always found their way back into my nights, slowly creeping inside my head. Or perhaps they were already there.

I took care of the house and the small garden I was able to grow in front of the cabin. Hannibal was the official (and only, except for a few occasions) chef. He also took care of our wounds and their recuperation, among other things. You see, the pace of our days was really slow and even though we tried to keep our minds busy, time can be a real torturer.

Hannibal’s curiosity took him to the attic one morning where he found a unique collection of books. I suspected the house was his but I had never asked. That confirmed my silent theory and he just smiled.

After his finding, I joined his reading sessions. I miss that now.

The first time he left the cabin it was quite a while after we’d established our home there. I had been secretly asking myself when it would happen, and one day it did.

I know he came to my room before leaving to check on me, the sweet caring beast.

The wooden floor creaked and he was out, predator of the night. And the day. Of everything and everywhere.

A few hours later the same loosened woods let me know he was back. I debated silently and after a long moment of doubt, I left my bed and snuck into the kitchen, phantomlike. I found Hannibal there, covered in sweat and blood. He smelled me before he got to lay his eyes on me.

The shiver I felt was both delightful and frightening. His eyes, dark as a void in space. It was magnetic.

For a moment I didn’t even care about the mess, I just went to him with my nose filled with metal and a citrusy aroma. I needed to see if he was harmed. Hannibal Lecter, potentially harmed and I, worried about him.

“Are you hurt? Should I worry?” My brows were furrowed. The look he gave me; quizzical and amused.

“I wasn’t wounded, Will. I’m in perfect condition.” He practically purred and then added, the bastard: “Don’t worry about me, get some rest.”

I must have rolled my eyes because he arched his brow as I was leaving. A tacit reprimand. He smirked when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I know you must be thinking I am crazy. I probably _am_ a madman, but try to understand that somewhere down the road of our short trips (I started joining him eventually), our relaxing nights sitting on the porch of the cabin and the fishing expeditions, I found my life.

Somewhere between Hannibal Lecter’s penetrating eyes and his smile, I found happiness.

There was one particular evening (the sky was something out of a painting), Hannibal and I were enjoying some good whiskey he’d managed to find in one of the stores, forgotten in time. We’d been in silence for a while, satisfied after a delicious meal he’d cooked. Ingredients gathered by him, even the meat. I’d asked no questions regarding the source. I wouldn’t.

I heard his words before they slipped from his lips.

“Are you happy, Will?”

For the first time in my life, I was ready to answer one of Hannibal’s questions. In fact, I was _eager_ to do so.

There was no thinking to do. My skin felt like a comfortable place to live in. I cared about being seen by only one set of eyes. The understanding between two creatures that are so different, the last inch of their opposites is exactly the same. The other side of my coin. _Hannibal._

My mouth stretched in a smile that made my cheek burn, even though the stitches were nothing but a bad memory. I turned to him and rose to my feet. Hannibal looked at me with curiosity as I approached slowly. I leaned in and my fingers curled around the nape of his neck.

_Look at that mouth._

When my lips met his, the electricity almost made me pull away but he wouldn’t let me move. His arm trapped me by the waist and he deepened the kiss until we were both dizzy and breathless.

We didn’t stop there, naturally. All those years of denial and rejection collided between our ecstatic bodies. The rest, I’ll leave to your imagination.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Part III

 

Hannibal never asked me to join him on his hunts, and even though they had significantly decreased, I never asked him to stop. The thing is, once you grasp happiness, the higher your fly, the more you fear the fall. The more you love, the more fragile it becomes.

As a result of that, I started following him, just to make sure everything was alright. Imagine me, worrying about one of the most dangerous predators walking the earth.

He knew I did, and that excited him even more.

Hannibal went after a very rude foreigner, who had been wandering the area one night, and I went after him. We hadn’t gone far when the man found himself cornered, but Hannibal saw the monster in his eyes the moment it was already too late.

I saw it too. A trap.

I jumped from behind a tree or a wall, I don’t recall exactly, to the man’s neck. The floor was left in a mess of mud, water and blood. You see, I wasn’t going to let anyone take Hannibal away from me.

We had a feast that day. The fascination on Hannibal’s face made my skin burn red.

“My remarkable boy, you never cease to amaze me.” His accent was thick but his voice was like velvet. The promise of many more feasts to come made our hearts beat in tandem with anticipation as we lay in bed, curled around each other, kissing every inch of skin.

My life before that? I couldn’t even think about it. Not because it pained me, but because it wasn’t up to the circumstances. That mundane existence trapped inside the cage that was my mind was nothing compared to the full life I had with him. It seemed surreal then and it still does now.

Unfortunately, everything comes to an end, you can ask Jack Crawford about that.

At that point, we were already living in Argentina. Hannibal wanted to live in Buenos Aires, but I insisted that we tried something more secluded first. It’s a big city, but no matter how _big_ cities are, they will always find you.

I convinced him and we moved near a small mountain town called Villa Traful. That’s in the south, almost one thousand miles away from Buenos Aires.

I worked fixing boats and he was able to open a small office, and worked as a low profile therapist.

I started getting bolder as I accompanied him to hunt. Fortunately for me, no matter the population of a town, the rude always have a place to happen but also the cruel and heartless.

The night they found our cabin, I knew it would be Hannibal’s end if they caught him.

Will Graham was still under the shadow of a doubt, Hannibal wasn’t.

 

The unhappiest memory I have are the tears running down his cheeks when I asked him to go and let them find me so he could run. His heart was screaming through his chest and I could hear it. I knew that time he had to be free for both of us to survive. He knew it too.

 

“You need to run. Find me.” My thumbs were still wet with warm tears as I watched him vanish into the forest. The moon was huge, queen of the sky.

“I love you.” He’d whispered. “I will find you.” I still tasted the salt and the white wine he’d had after dinner. My chest ached so much I thought I would collapse.

He was gone.

I grabbed my shotgun.

It was a massacre.

 

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, if a man can experience even once in his life the wonderment of being seen and understood, he then must feel accomplished. I fell in love with the one you call _monster_ ; I probably am no different from him. He showed me it was okay to accept myself as I am, and that doing so would amplify the light in my mind to the infinite. It did.

No, I don’t regret my decisions. I will wait for him. Always.

_I know you are somewhere in the room, watching me. I can feel your gaze on me._

_I will be waiting for you._

_I’m ready for what’s next._

_Come for me, Hannibal._

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can visit me on Tumblr: [tartufibianchi.tumblr](http://tartufibianchi.tumblr.com)


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